Collision
by obviously-deranged
Summary: Kurt Hummel is living his dreams. He was accepted to the prestigious NYADA and is now living in New York city with his best friend Rachel. His biggest problems were picking the right showtune for auditions, at least, until Blaine Anderson collided with the front of his car. Unfortunately this is not a simple case of boy meets boy. *maybe potential triggers*
1. Prologue

Prologue:

Kurt slammed his foot against the break causing the car to scream to a halt. It did not stop suddenly enough and soon the boy that raced in front of him fell to the ground after colliding with the hood of Kurt's car. Kurt screamed to himself and flung himself out of the car to check on the boy's condition. He lay splayed out against the bitumen, his skin badly grazed in multiple placed along his body, his right arm twisted at such an odd angle that could only mean it was broken, a small pool of blood forming from the stream that flowed out of his nose. He groaned to himself, trying to pull his legs and force himself to stand. He was unsuccessful.

Kurt's hand was pressed against his mouth so tightly in an effort to stifle the pained noises that were pouring out of them against his will.

"I'm so sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry" Kurt breathed "are you alright?"

He placed his hand gently on the boy's shoulder and turned his face from the ground. "Can you tell me your name?"

The boy blinked his eyes open and whispered, barely audibly "B-Blaine"

With his fingers shaking he pressed the buttons on the phone with a newfound careful precision. "He-Hello? I, um, yes, yes I can hold" Kurt said to the voice on the other end of the line.

"Sorry about that. 9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

"Um, yes, I was driving and I... He just ran in front of me and now he's hurt and-"

"Sir, please calm down. Where are you?"

"Near the corner of 7th avenue and west 19th street"

"Ok. I have sent an ambulance and they will be arriving shortly. Now, sir, I need you to try to concentrate. Try to keep him stimulated, ask him questions, get him to squeeze your hand, he might have quite a serious concussion and so it's best to try and keep him awake. Are you ok, sir?"

"I'm ok. Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Still in this state it was impossible to notice how handsome this boy was. He had dark, curly hair that fell into his eyes and tanned skin that made his hazel eyes seem that much warmer. Kurt took his hand (his own ivory skin further emphasizing the other's warm skin tone) and squeezed it.

"Don't worry, it's going to be alright. I'm going to take care of you" Kurt whispered and Blaine squeezed his hand in return, mumbling something that sounded like 'Thank you'.


	2. Blink Your Eyes Awake

Chapter 1:

Kurt Hummel had never hit another person in his entire life (well except that one woman at the Burberry sale, but it was only a hard slap on the hand, and she _was _clutching a beautiful scarf that was 70% off). Now, sitting in the waiting room of an eerily green hospital waiting for news about a stranger, he began to plan his speech for when Blaine woke up from the coma that Kurt had put him in.

Because he was going to, wake up, that is. He had to.

_Hi. I'm Kurt, I'm really sorry about hitting you but you just came out of –_

'No.'

_Hey. How're you feeling? I'm Kurt. Sorry about all that._

'Acting like it's not a big deal is just going to make you seem like an asshole Kurt.' He thought to himself.

_Hi, Blaine. I'm so sorry. How are you? -_

"Hi there, are you waiting for Blaine?" a nurse asked him, interrupting his train of thought.

"Oh! Yeah, yes. Is he ok?"

"Well, he's pretty banged up but he should be fine. He has a broken collarbone, 2 broken ribs, a broken nose, a fractured ankle, a lot of bruising and a mild concussion. So it definitely could have been worse. You can come see him, if you'd like" She smiled.

Kurt nodded silently.

He was led down a myriad of identical hallways up to the ICU where Blaine was and was sure he would never be able to find his way out when the time came. Eventually the nurse paused outside a door and warned Kurt about the cords everywhere and mentioned that he wasn't awake yet and that he should alert the staff if or when he did. She pulled back the door and motioned for him to go inside.

Blaine lay still on the white bed with cords travelling from various machines to different places on his body. His skin looked washed out, and the circles around his eyes were practically violet. The small amount of exposed skin showcased grazes and bruises that would make the toughest man wince. Kurt swallowed back his tears at the realization that he had caused this.

He sat beside the bed and watched Blaine's chest rise and fall to the constant beeping of the monitor.

A badly stifled scream woke him from the sleep he didn't know he had fallen into. At the foot of the bed stood a slim woman, her dark hair spilled over her shoulders to her lower back. Kurt guessed that she was Hispanic, and wondered if she was Blaine's girlfriend. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach and sank slowly to the floor.

"I'm sorry." Kurt said walking over to her "I'm Kurt. Have the nurses updated you?"

He could feel her shudder underneath his touch as he laid a comforting hand on her back. She sniffled and rubbed her face.

"Oh, sorry. I – yes. They called me and I… oh my God." She said between sobs. "I'm Santana, I'm… Blaine's friend. Who are you?"

Kurt had not planned a response to this situation and somehow "Oh, I hit him with my car earlier" didn't really seem appropriate. In fact, it was more likely to earn him a hard slap to the face. "Uh, yeah, friend."

Santana lowered herself into the chair opposite Kurt's and held one of Blaine's hands gingerly. She pressed her lips to it and whispered something against his fingertips.

"Crybaby." A hoarse whisper fell from the boy's lips.

"That's not fair, I-" Santana stopped herself "You're awake!"

Blaine gave her a slight smile and Kurt could see a million years behind this friendship. He suddenly became uncomfortable, and didn't know whether he should edge out of the room and hope he was unseen or if he should remain until one of them acknowledged his presence.

The girl fell into Blaine's arms and though he winced, he didn't pull away. He glanced over at Kurt, the faintest scent of recognition playing across his face.

"Hi" he said, his raspy voice cracking at the use. "I'm gonna admit, I didn't expect to see you here"

Kurt attempted to chuckle. "I just wanted to…check on you I guess. I'm really sorry. I feel awful."

"Not your fault. Don't worry" Blaine smiled.

_What kind of person isn't angry with some stranger who put them in a hospital bed and then had the nerve to show up? _Kurt wondered to himself. Even in these mere moments, Kurt couldn't help but find himself intrigued by Mr. Dark-and-Handsome (height had never mattered to Kurt anyway).

He locked eyes with Santana who narrowed her eyes at him in warning. She kissed Blaine on the cheek lightly as he drifted back to sleep and brushed the dark curls from his face, blatantly ignoring Kurt.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he braced himself for the phone call that was about to take place. He scrolled to Rachel's number in the contact list and pressed 'call'.


	3. First Impressions

Chapter 2:

"_You what?"_ Rachel yelled lough enough for the entire hospital to hear through Kurt's phone

"It wasn't really my fault. He just flew in front of my car. There wasn't enough time-" Kurt barely believed any of the words pouring from his mouth.

"Not enough time to stop yourself from killing him?"

"He's not dead Rachel. Calm yourself. Honestly."

"I can't believe you're not freaking out about this." Rachel was practically hyperventilating.

"Oh my God. Why did I call you? I completely forgot you make everything 10 times worse. I'm hanging up. I'll you later… probably"

"Probably?"

"He's kind of gorgeous and-"

"Kurt!"

"Hanging up."

Kurt turned around and watched through the glass door as Santana tended to the beautiful boy lying there. If he was being honest with himself, he knew it was probably more detrimental, for Blaine that is, if he were to remain. It would be harder for Blaine to see him around all the time. But how could he walk away? For some reason the few minutes Kurt had spent with him had sparked a new curiosity. Blaine groaned, low and deep, and turned his sleeping face in Kurt's direction. Maybe it was more than a curiosity.

Santana's head snapped up. Her eyes bore holes into Kurt's and rigidly she straightened herself up and made her way towards him. She pulled the sliding door open, slowly but forcefully, and shut it behind her.

"Look" she said, her voice serious and sharp "I don't know who you are, but let me tell you this: I have known Blaine since high school, we have been _best friends_ since high school and I have _never _heard of you. Not once. Considering that you two are 'friends', you'd think that I would have, right?

"In fact, from the way you were perving on him just now, I'm getting the feeling that you've only just met. Now, I know how he got in here. Apparently he collided pretty full on into the front of someone's car. That wouldn't be your car, would it? 'Cause I swear to God if I find out you are the reason he can barely breathe right now, I-"

"No! No it wasn't me. Not my car. No. I, uh, met him a few days ago, yeah. I just saw him come in and thought I'd check." Kurt stammered. He couldn't believe he'd been so intimidated by a girl who was a blubbering mess mere moments ago. But he was.

"Whatever. I think I've got it from here. So, why don't you leave..."

"Kurt." He reminded her.

"Kurt. Cute. Do I have to tell you twice?"

"No. Not at all. I'm going"

Kurt sighed deeply as he leaned against the door once back in his apartment. The entire way home he'd been terrified of Santana's threat. He had absolutely no doubt that she would deliver on her promise. Whatever it was. His five seconds of tranquility were interrupted by a blithering Rachel who had obviously heard the door close, and seemed to think the sky was falling.

"Kurt! Are you okay? Have the police talked to you. Oh my God, can you be jailed for this?"

"Rachel, I will give you 2 seconds to stop talking. Please."

"Right." She all but whispered. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Not really. I think I might just go to bed actually"

"Okay, well let me know."

Kurt lay in bed awake, replaying the scene in his head; Blaine's startled eyes as the brakes screeched, the thud that shook through his body upon impact, the tan body lying on the road, broken. It took a special talent to look that incredible after being hit by a car, Kurt thought, but the way that his face had fallen with a few dark curls lingering by his eyes, he did.

Blaine's soft smile when he had said hello was warm, his eyes shone even under the harsh hospital light and in the blink of an eye, Kurt was smitten. To think that he had broken something so beautiful sent multiple waves of pain through his body. Though Santana's words were easily translated into a very dangerous "don't fuck with me" Kurt refused to let himself be bullied away. This was fate, admittedly a very unfortunate introduction, but an introduction nonetheless. And it was not one that Kurt was going to let slip into the past.

"I think I should bring him flowers. That's a gentlemanly thing to do, right?"

"Sorry?" Rachel called from the kitchen.

"Do you think it'd be ok for me to bring him flowers?"

"I'm sure he'd appreciate it Kurt. Do you think pizza for dinner?"

"Carbs, Rachel. Carbs."

"That's a no, then?" Rachel leant against the doorframe.

Kurt sat up and wiped his face.

"Okay, you _so _want to talk about it. So spill. Tell me everything. How wonderful is this Blaine character?"

"I really don't know him at all, Rachel."

"But you want to." Rachel giggled.

Kurt laughed and decided to ignore her. "I could go Thai."

"Thai it is."


	4. Obstacles

Chapter 3:

After a long a grueling session at the florist's, Kurt had finally decided on a bunch of yellow and pink/red roses. He didn't want to bring just yellow (even though that was obviously appropriate, they kind of screamed 'dying grandparent' and that wasn't really what he was going for) and so decided to add in a few of the dark pink ones to give a friendlier tone. The florist wasn't happy with Kurt's need to change his arrangements.

Kurt peaked around the corner into Blaine's room to check if Santana was there. It was fairly early (10 am), and she didn't seem to have arrived yet. He tip-toed from his hiding spot until he realized how ridiculous he looked and walked normally. Blaine was awake. He sat slightly propped up in his bed reading a rather thick hard-cover book. _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. _And just when Kurt thought he couldn't get any cuter.

"I've heard that's a good one. Not that I've read it" Kurt tried his best to sound cool.

"Huh?" Blaine said, not even looking up from the page.

"The book. Anyway. I just wanted to apologize again and give you these " Kurt produced the flowers "but you're probably tired of my ugly mug. So I'll just set these down and be off."

"Oh I'm sorry. No, not at all. That's really thoughtful, you absolutely didn't need to. Thank you." Blaine smiled, and _God_ was he charming.

Kurt couldn't help but smile back. "You're ridiculous." Blaine gave him a quizzical look. "I "didn't need to" buy you flowers after I ran you over with my car? Honestly."

"You didn't "run me over" and it's fine. I'm alive, aren't I? Which is good for you, because my mum would have been _really _pissed." Blaine laughed.

"How are you even real?" Kurt said under his breath.

"Sorry?"

"Oh nothing. I said "how do you feel?"

The look on Blaine's face indicated that he was well aware that Kurt had not said that at all, but he didn't press it any further. "I'm feeling ok today. A little tired and a bit bored, but other than that I can't complain."

This attitude was actually starting to piss Kurt off a little. How on earth could a person be hit by a car and then act as if they were recovering from a mild head cold? Obviously this Blaine guy was crazy, if Kurt had been the one in that bed they'd never hear the end of it.

"You can complain! Please, complain! I'd feel so much better if you'd complain!"

"Ah I see. Now someone's being selfish. _I'm_ the one in hospital. "

"Better."

It seemed strange to be acting this way with Blaine, considering he'd only met the man the day before, but still there was a strange comfort with him. Blaine was warm and friendly, and Kurt didn't really care that he was acting like a possessive stalker. He didn't really want to leave Blaine's side at all.

"You don't have to come here you know? I don't know if you feel guilty or…? Either way, you don't have to come sit with me or bring me flowers or anything. I don't want you to feel pressured."

"See?" Kurt said, pretending there was someone beside him "I told you. Ridiculous."

Blaine laughed.

Over the next few weeks the two boys fell into a comfortable routine where Kurt would visit Blaine in the mornings about 4-5 times a week before 11:30, when Santana got there, and then would bring Blaine coffee and lunch on Saturdays. They talked about the basics; how old are you? How long have you been in New York? What are you doing in New York? Where are you from?

"Lima, Ohio." Kurt had responded.

"You're kidding." Blaine had let out a single laugh.

"No, why? I know I don't scream Ohio, but I take that as a compliment."

"Oh, absolutely. No, it's not that. It's just that I'm from Westerville."

"You're kidding." _You've been right under my nose this whole time?_

From what Kurt had learned Blaine was in fact Blaine Anderson, a 23 year old from Westerville, Ohio, who was studying at Julliard – music. He was lead soloist of the Warblers (the glee club at Dalton Academy where Blaine had spent his high school years). He loved all things geeky; Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, you name it, along with music, Broadway, bowties and Katy Perry.

In fact, Blaine was in the middle of telling Kurt about a wonderful rendition that he did with the Warblers of _Teenage Dream _when a rather lanky, but somewhat attractive young man appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, will I never stop hearing about how the wonderful Blaine Anderson stopped time at Dalton Academy as he serenaded the new kid with a top 40 pop song?" He smirked.

"Sebastian!" Blaine shuffled in his bed as if to go hug him before remembering he was in immense amounts of pain. "What are you doing here? You're meant to be in London!"

"Well, I would have left London a lot sooner if my boyfriend thought to tell me he had been hit by a car, but as usual I'm the last person to know anything."

_Boyfriend. _Had Kurt heard that right? Kurt wasn't even aware that Blaine was gay, but for some reason pining away after a straight boy was much more manageable than pining away after a gay guy with a rather hot boyfriend. His heart contracted in his chest, and he could practically feel the life draining from his extremities.

"I'm sorry I was going to tell you, but I-" Blaine stopped himself. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. How rude of me. Kurt, this is my boyfriend Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Kurt."

"Hi." Sebastian said, barely giving him a second glance. He moved to the other side of Blaine's bed and kissed him lovingly on the forehead before kissing him sweetly on the lips. Blaine smiled up at him, and looked over at Kurt awkwardly.

"Yeah, hi. Look, it's actually probably time for me to be off. It was nice to meet you Sebastian. Blaine, I'll see you Thursday?"

"Yeah sure." Blaine smiled "See you Thursday"

"Bye, Kurt." Sebastian said, a little more coldly than necessary.

'Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." Kurt thought to himself as he walked down to the reception. 'Of course he has a boyfriend, there was no way he was single. Stupid'

His thoughts were interrupted by Santana as she screamed in Spanish while kicking the coffee machine. She muttered under her breath and turned to see Kurt. She cocked her head to the side slightly and narrowed her eyes.

'_Shit.'_


	5. I've Got Sunshine On A Cloudy Day

Chapter 5:

"Oh wow! Look who's in normal clothes" Kurt exclaimed while walking into Blaine's hospital room.

"I know." Blaine said, his smile stretched wide across his face "And I'll have you know that I actually got into them by myself too."

"Someone alert the media. Now." Kurt laughed and settled into his usual chair. "How did you manage that? You have a lot of broken bones."

"With utter finesse and style."

"I'm sure. But seriously, that's really good"

"I know. Turns out I'm not paralyzed in any way, shape, or form. Which is awesome."

"Very, very awesome." Kurt said, silently thanking whatever cosmic being had played some part in Blaine's recovery. "I couldn't have forgiven myself if-"

"Shut it. Seriously. Your guilty conscience is getting really boring, and trust me I'm bored enough." Blaine said. He smiled warmly at Kurt to let him know he was joking.

"So have you got any idea when you might be getting out of here?" Kurt said, changing the subject.

"The doctor said most likely early next week. I'm very excited, as you can imagine. Unfortunately I will not be able to participate in my Warbler reunion concert, but I will be able to watch from side stage. It seems that even a simple two-step is too difficult for my pathetic excuse for an ankle."

"Your ankle is broken, Blaine. Cut it some slack." Kurt laughed. "Wait, Warblers? Where have I heard that name before?"

"Um, everywhere? We're kind of famous. Like One Direction, but better. And in blazers." Blaine smiled, clearly making fun.

"Better than One Direction? That's quite a claim there. True, I can't deny a good blazer…"

"Well you'll have to come see for yourself. What are you doing Sunday…" Blaine counted with his fingers "… two weeks from next?"

"Uhh… I don't know I'd have to check."

"Incorrect answer. You are coming to Ohio to watch a spectacular performance by yours truly, well sort of, with a truly wonderful group, The Warblers. Brace yourself. It's gonna be wild"

"Blaine Anderson, you truly are something else."

Blaine grinned in response.

"Oh! Ohio!" Rachel exclaimed. "Wonderful. We can meet up with some of the others. Catch up with our families. This will be great."

"We? Rachel."

"Yes, we, Kurt. Honestly. I'm coming. You're not going halfway across the country with someone you barely know without me. Besides, I have to size this Blaine up for myself."

"Rachel, I don't even know if I can get you invited."

"To a Warblers reunion concert? Kurt, I'm sure I'll fit. No, this is not up for discussion. We could make a long weekend out of it."

Rachel had a tendency to invite herself to parties and events that really weren't relevant to her at all. Kurt thought it stemmed from some strange underlying paranoia about possibly missing out on an opportunity to be on Broadway in some random inappropriate circumstance. She also had a tendency to over-organize everything. Trying to have even one iota of input into a plan once Rachel had commandeered it was like trying to discover the lost city of Atlantis, pointless and a waste of time. Fortunately, Rachel wasn't terrible at this.

The next week went by fairly slowly for one Blaine Anderson. In between the sporadic hospital visits from friends, family and Sebastian, he spent an awful lot of time watching TV, re-assuring his mother that a flight to New York really wasn't necessary and fantasizing about one pale, skinny boy with a beautiful smile and an even more wonderful wardrobe. He knew it was wrong, because he had Sebastian and really he was happy with his boyfriend. They'd been together for about 4 years now, and Blaine was sure that this new infatuation was nothing serious. This happened to everyone, right?

But it was undeniable, the butterflies that sprung into his stomach each morning that Kurt was meant to drop in, the measurable drop in his happiness each time that he left. Even thinking about the small amount of time they had spent together was enough to plaster a smile on Blaine's face. But it was just a phase. Just a little crush, and it would go away. He loved Sebastian. This really was nothing serious.

Blaine's thoughts were interrupted as Santana burst into the room in a huff, not a particularly uncommon occurrence.

"Ugh. She's cheating on me. I know it."

"Overreacting, Santana."

"I am not. No, this time I have legitimate proof."

"Oh, okay." Blaine said, finding it hard to believe her. Every now and then Santana would come to the conclusion that something was desperately wrong with her relationship. That a break-up was about to happen, Brittany was cheating on her, or that Brittany was keeping some heinous secret. And every single time, it turned out to be some crazy idea that Santana had formulated in her endlessly overactive imagination.

Santana pulled out a white iPhone and began scrolling through messages on the screen.

"Is that Brittany's phone, San?" Blaine said, sighing softly.

"Mmhm. Ok here it is. So mystery person, called Anna, sends 'So tonight then?' and reply; 'No I can't tonight, I have something with the gf. Maybe Thursday?' Anna again; 'You always cancel our plans for Santana. Ok, Thurs.' And reply; Yeah well Santana is my girlfriend, you're not. See you then.' And there's a smiley face at the end of that one. See?"

"No, Santana, as usual. I don't see anything. She's not cancelling plans with you. That means you still come first."

"I don't even know who this Anna person is. She's keeping her a secret from me."

"Santana. Stop. Give Brittany her phone back, try to stop looking through it without her permission and stop being such an idiot all the time. If she didn't want you anymore, she'd just give you back."

"Like you have any idea how I'm feeling. You have Sebastian. That boy practically worships the ground you walk on. He'd never give _you_ back. Count yourself lucky."

"Lucky. Yeah. I am."

"What's that face? No really, what is that face? Is that an _I'm-having-second-thoughts-about-my-boyfriend-face? _Cause if it is, be prepared for me to slap it off."

"Santana, really. a). That isn't even a face. It doesn't exist. B). Why would I ever want to dump Sebastian?"

"Well, good. Cause that little elf who has been stalking you seems to think that you might."

"What are you talking about?"

"That kid. Uhhh… Carter?"

Blaine gave her a puzzled look.

"Burt? Chris? Tim? I don't know, I'm guessing" Santana continued.

"Kurt?"

"Yes. That one. I was close."

Blaine shook his head. "Ok, so, what about him?"

"He's totally into you."

Another puzzled look.

"He wants in those too-tight pants. He wants to put a ring on it…? Am I not making sense?" Blaine stayed silent. "He wants to ride you so hard that your dick-"

"Awesome Santana! Yes, understood. Thank you for that imagery."

"Good. Yeah. Pretty boy has his eyes on you."

"I highly doubt that." _Why would he have his eyes on me? _The memory of Kurt's curious eyes accompanied by a warm smile flooded his mind. _Could he?_

"Well, whatever." Santana's phone buzzed. "It's from Brittany." She smiled down at the lit screen, intently reading whatever email Brittany had sent.

"I have to go." She said, still smiling. "Britt has something special planned." She walked out of the room re-reading the email.

"You're pathetic!" Blaine yelled at her as she left.


	6. Could This Be Out Of Line?

Chapter 5:

"Oh wow! Look who's in normal clothes" Kurt exclaimed while walking into Blaine's hospital room.

"I know." Blaine said, his smile stretched wide across his face "And I'll have you know that I actually got into them by myself too."

"Someone alert the media. Now." Kurt laughed and settled into his usual chair. "How did you manage that? You have a lot of broken bones."

"With utter finesse and style."

"I'm sure. But seriously, that's really good"

"I know. Turns out I'm not paralyzed in any way, shape, or form. Which is awesome."

"Very, very awesome." Kurt said, silently thanking whatever cosmic being had played some part in Blaine's recovery. "I couldn't have forgiven myself if-"

"Shut it. Seriously. Your guilty conscience is getting really boring, and trust me I'm bored enough." Blaine said. He smiled warmly at Kurt to let him know he was joking.

"So have you got any idea when you might be getting out of here?" Kurt said, changing the subject.

"The doctor said most likely early next week. I'm very excited, as you can imagine. Unfortunately I will not be able to participate in my Warbler reunion concert, but I will be able to watch from side stage. It seems that even a simple two-step is too difficult for my pathetic excuse for an ankle."

"Your ankle is broken, Blaine. Cut it some slack." Kurt laughed. "Wait, Warblers? Where have I heard that name before?"

"Um, everywhere? We're kind of famous. Like One Direction, but better. And in blazers." Blaine smiled, clearly making fun.

"Better than One Direction? That's quite a claim there. True, I can't deny a good blazer…"

"Well you'll have to come see for yourself. What are you doing Sunday…" Blaine counted with his fingers "… two weeks from next?"

"Uhh… I don't know I'd have to check."

"Incorrect answer. You are coming to Ohio to watch a spectacular performance by yours truly, well sort of, with a truly wonderful group, The Warblers. Brace yourself. It's gonna be wild"

"Blaine Anderson, you truly are something else."

Blaine grinned in response.

"Oh! Ohio!" Rachel exclaimed. "Wonderful. We can meet up with some of the others. Catch up with our families. This will be great."

"We? Rachel."

"Yes, we, Kurt. Honestly. I'm coming. You're not going halfway across the country with someone you barely know without me. Besides, I have to size this Blaine up for myself."

"Rachel, I don't even know if I can get you invited."

"To a Warblers reunion concert? Kurt, I'm sure I'll fit. No, this is not up for discussion. We could make a long weekend out of it."

Rachel had a tendency to invite herself to parties and events that really weren't relevant to her at all. Kurt thought it stemmed from some strange underlying paranoia about possibly missing out on an opportunity to be on Broadway in some random inappropriate circumstance. She also had a tendency to over-organize everything. Trying to have even one iota of input into a plan once Rachel had commandeered it was like trying to discover the lost city of Atlantis, pointless and a waste of time. Fortunately, Rachel wasn't terrible at this.

The next week went by fairly slowly for one Blaine Anderson. In between the sporadic hospital visits from friends, family and Sebastian, he spent an awful lot of time watching TV, re-assuring his mother that a flight to New York really wasn't necessary and fantasizing about one pale, skinny boy with a beautiful smile and an even more wonderful wardrobe. He knew it was wrong, because he had Sebastian and really he was happy with his boyfriend. They'd been together for about 4 years now, and Blaine was sure that this new infatuation was nothing serious. This happened to everyone, right?

But it was undeniable, the butterflies that sprung into his stomach each morning that Kurt was meant to drop in, the measurable drop in his happiness each time that he left. Even thinking about the small amount of time they had spent together was enough to plaster a smile on Blaine's face. But it was just a phase. Just a little crush, and it would go away. He loved Sebastian. This really was nothing serious.

Blaine's thoughts were interrupted as Santana burst into the room in a huff, not a particularly uncommon occurrence.

"Ugh. She's cheating on me. I know it."

"Overreacting, Santana."

"I am not. No, this time I have legitimate proof."

"Oh, okay." Blaine said, finding it hard to believe her. Every now and then Santana would come to the conclusion that something was desperately wrong with her relationship. That a break-up was about to happen, Brittany was cheating on her, or that Brittany was keeping some heinous secret. And every single time, it turned out to be some crazy idea that Santana had formulated in her endlessly overactive imagination.

Santana pulled out a white iPhone and began scrolling through messages on the screen.

"Is that Brittany's phone, San?" Blaine said, sighing softly.

"Mmhm. Ok here it is. So mystery person, called Anna, sends 'So tonight then?' and reply; 'No I can't tonight, I have something with the gf. Maybe Thursday?' Anna again; 'You always cancel our plans for Santana. Ok, Thurs.' And reply; Yeah well Santana is my girlfriend, you're not. See you then.' And there's a smiley face at the end of that one. See?"

"No, Santana, as usual. I don't see anything. She's not cancelling plans with you. That means you still come first."

"I don't even know who this Anna person is. She's keeping her a secret from me."

"Santana. Stop. Give Brittany her phone back, try to stop looking through it without her permission and stop being such an idiot all the time."

"Like you have any idea how I'm feeling. You have Sebastian. That boy practically worships the ground you walk on. Count yourself lucky."

"Lucky. Yeah. I am."

"What's that face? No really, what is that face? Is that an _I'm-having-second-thoughts-about-my-boyfriend-face? _Cause if it is, be prepared for me to slap it off."

"Santana, really. a). That isn't even a face. It doesn't exist. B). Why would I ever want to dump Sebastian?"

"Well, good. Cause that little elf who has been stalking you seems to think that you might."

"What are you talking about?"

"That kid. Uhhh… Carter?"

Blaine gave her a puzzled look.

"Burt? Chris? Tim? I don't know, I'm guessing" Santana continued.

"Kurt?"

"Yes. That one. I was close."

Blaine shook his head. "Ok, so, what about him?"

"He's totally into you."

Another puzzled look.

"He wants in those too-tight pants. He wants to put a ring on it…? Am I not making sense?" Blaine stayed silent. "He wants to ride you so hard that your dick-"

"Awesome Santana! Yes, understood. Thank you for that imagery."

"Good. Yeah. Pretty boy has his eyes on you."

"I highly doubt that." _Why would he have his eyes on me? _The memory of Kurt's curious eyes accompanied by a warm smile flooded his mind. _Could he?_

"Well, whatever." Santana's phone buzzed. "It's from Brittany." She smiled down at the lit screen, intently reading whatever message Brittany had sent.

"I have to go." She said, still smiling. "Britt has something special planned." She walked out of the room re-reading the text.

"You're pathetic!" Blaine yelled at her as she left.


	7. Big Jet Plane

Chapter 6:

Kurt collapsed on his bed in yet another fit of frustration. _What does one wear to a Warbler concert with the guy he likes? _Unable to reach any kind of decision in the last 4 hours that he had spent packing, he had let his mind wander into fantasyland.

Imagining him and Blaine sitting, drinking coffee and holding hands, cuddling by the fire, watching some of Kurt's favorite musicals, snuggled up under the covers on a cold Sunday morning. The list was endless. Though as much as his daydreaming brought a smile to his face, it had now left him in a state of panic. With a little over 9 hours until he needed to be leaving to catch his flight, he had a suitcase that contained 3 pairs of socks, 3 pairs of underwear and his pajamas. And nothing else. Everything he owned seemed very wrong. Not stylish enough, too casual, too formal, not sexy enough, too weird, too warm, too cold, not right.

_Jeans _he thought to himself _Jeans are always a good idea in situations such as this. _He pulled out a pair on simple black skinny jeans (that made his ass look _really _good, if he did say so himself), folded them and placed them neatly into his suitcase.

_Well, it's a start._

The next morning Rachel, as usual, was over-organized to the point of annoyance, making notes of how many seconds late they were and reminding him of the next 'checkpoint' on her schedule. Kurt simply rolled his eyes, but put up with it for her sake. In a way, he knew that this was just her method of dealing with stresses. They arrived at the airport in plenty of time to grab a cup of coffee and a croissant each before settling into the waiting chairs.

In a different corner of New York City, Blaine was practically shoving Sebastian out the door (well as much as he could) yelling at him; "for the last time, Bas, your hair is fine. More than fine, it's wonderful. So can we please go?"

Sebastian ruffled his hair and smirked before passing the shorter man and holding the door open for him, motioning for him to come through. "Well, shall we, then?"

Blaine pulled him down by the shirt for a kiss as he passed before Sebastian gave him a playful slap on the bum, winking as he did so.

This is how things were between Blaine and Sebastian: easy. Easy and carefree and comfortable. It was a pattern that they had fallen into of being themselves: overly silly for their age and happy. Not to say that they didn't have their fair share of troubled water, because they did. Just that neither one of them really took anything too seriously, meaning that the smaller things blew over in a matter of seconds… generally.

Kurt arrived at the pristine, white center with an excitement he hadn't felt since he got on that one fateful plane to New York before starting his life at NYADA. Being with Blaine was inexplicable, it was anxiety, and happiness, and love, and excitement, and terror and everything wrapped up into one. Seeing him emerge from the corner gave life to a new fleet of butterflies in his stomach and made his heart beat a little harder, a little faster. He gave the dark-haired boy a warm smile, which was returned before he turned to talk to someone who was not visible to Kurt's eyes yet. _That's strange _Kurt thought to himself _He didn't mention that he was coming with anyone. _

A taller, skinny boy that Kurt immediately recognized as Sebastian followed Blaine around the corner, laughing and looking in Blaine's eyes as if they were sharing some secret joke that no one else could possibly understand. It gave Kurt's heart an undeniable twinge.

"Is that them?" Rachel asked curiously, following Kurt's gaze.

He nodded, swallowed "Yes. The shorter one is Blaine, and the other is Sebastian, his… boyfriend." Saying that word was almost physically painful. _Boyfriend. Blaine has a boyfriend, and it's not you._

"Oh Kurt. I'm sorry. Why didn't you say something?"

"It- It doesn't matter that's why." Kurt said, rather abruptly before speaking to the fast-approaching couple.

"Sebastian! Blaine! Hi." Kurt called to them. They made their way over, Sebastian's arms wrapped protectively around his boyfriend's waist.

"Kurt, hi!" Blaine said with an unnecessary enthusiasm, smiling broadly. Blaine gave Kurt a warm one-armed hug before introducing himself to Rachel, who failed wholeheartedly in acting nonchalant.

Sebastian shook his hand politely, but very obviously made no effort to sustain any kind of conversation with him. It was going to be a long 3 days.

Rachel and Sebastian got along surprisingly well. They bonded over mutual appreciation of great musicals and how wonderful they considered themselves to be. It wasn't long before Rachel had declared she "must sing a song with Sebastian while we're in Ohio!" They even sat together on the plane, giving Kurt the opportunity to spend a little more time _almost _alone with Blaine.

"So," Blaine said a few minutes after take off, "I didn't want to bring up your audition in case you bombed or something, but you haven't mentioned anything at all and I'm not going to lie, it's driving me a little crazy. Please put me out of my misery." Blaine gave Kurt his best puppy-dog eyes and Kurt thought that, with that face, he would do anything he ever asked him to.

"I think it went well." Kurt teased.

"Well? Come on, Kurt" Blaine complained.

"Fine. I got a call, and I've been invited for a callback next Thursday. So, I'd say it went pretty well."

"Oh my God, Kurt, that's amazing! I'm so proud of you. Not that I'm surprised, I suspect you're completely incredible. But well done, you must be so excited!"

Kurt laughed. "I think you're a little more excited than I am, but thank you Blaine. It means a lot."

"I guess you're welcome? I just can't believe you can even sit still. Have you decided what you're going to sing for the callback?"

"You're like a toddler, I swear. And no, I haven't. Any ideas?"

Blaine grinned adorably. "Hmmm… I'll give it some thought."

About 45 minutes into the flight, Blaine dozed into a light sleep. His head fell to rest on Kurt's shoulder, and though Kurt momentarily became very self-conscious and worried that Sebastian might notice, he did not have it in his heart to re-position him. Blaine mumbled softly in his sleep, and though he did not hear it, he was whispering Kurt's name.


	8. Falling For Your Eyes

Chapter 7:

It didn't take long for the gang to settle in their hotel rooms, nor did it take long for Kurt to slip in an excited phone call to his father, updating him on everything. He talked to Carol and Finn (only briefly, Kurt knew that Rachel became uncomfortable even with her ex on the phone) and found himself smiling almost to the point of pain, his heart longing to be back with them again. He didn't mention Blaine to anyone, nor did he mention that he was currently in Ohio, and if you asked he wouldn't be able to tell you why.

They arrived in Ohio at 11:35 am, and so decided that first-things-first meant that food was top priority. They had planned to catch up with the other Warblers that night, just as a get-together before they performed the following evening.

"I'm kind of nervous about meeting them." Kurt confessed over his Caesar salad.

"Why's that?" Blaine said, poking at his food with his fork.

"Well, I mean, do they know about Rachel and I? Do they know we're here?"

"No." Sebastian replied. "You're the big surprise! We figured it would be much more fun that way. I was actually thinking; how do you feel about jumping out of a cake in diamante underwear?"

Blaine looked at Sebastian out of the corner of his eye and laughed. "That is a perfect idea!"

Kurt looked between them, a genuine look of horror on his face. His mouth formed a small 'o' and his face drained of color at the thought. Noticing this, Blaine decided to speak up.

"He's kidding, Kurt. No one's going to make you pretend to be a stripper. Unless you'd like that? To answer your question – yes, they know who you are, and that you're coming."

"That wasn't funny. I actually thought you were serious."

"It was a little funny, Kurt. Just a little" Rachel smiled. "You actually thought they were serious. That's hilarious."

"Yes, yes. Got it. I'm an idiot, moving on!"

The other three continued to laugh for a couple of minutes.

Meeting the Warblers was considerably less daunting than Kurt had envisioned. They were overly polite, happy, charming men, much like Blaine. They greeted both him and Rachel warmly, not allowing any awkwardness to ruin their night. Overall, Kurt enjoyed himself. He was much more excited for the performance the next day after witnessing an impromptu two-step number by the group.

"Just imagine we're in dark navy blazers with red piping and a red and navy tie." Blaine smiled. Kurt had to admit, the idea of seeing Blaine in his old school uniform was _doing_ things to him. Rachel spent much of her time getting acquainted with the attractive straight boys. And wasted no time, once back at the hotel room, in telling Kurt all about Wes and David and all the other gorgeous boys. And as usual, she claimed that each and every one of them was interested in her.

Rachel came to consciousness some time around 9 the next morning, greeted by a god-awful headache and a taste in her mouth that resembled dirty feet. She sat up, just a little too fast, and chastised herself for drinking at all the previous night. She made her way to the bathroom just as Kurt came out.

"Morning, sunshine" he said, smiling and already ready to go out.

Rachel grumbled and stepped past him into the bathroom.

She spent considerably less time perfecting her appearance that morning as she desperately craved a hot cup of coffee. Kurt knocked on Blaine's door to invite him and Sebastian along, and his smile broadened a little when Blaine said that Sebastian was still a little hung-over, so he wouldn't be joining them. Rachel simply watched the two of them laugh and chatter meaninglessly. The tension between the two of them almost made the air a little denser, and she was overcome with the urge to slap them both in the face.

Blaine had made a great effort to include Rachel in the conversation, which she much appreciated. Kurt spent almost the entire outing staring at Blaine, or fiddling with something when Blaine caught him doing so.

"So, Blaine, what do you do when you're not performing reunion concerts or lying in hospital beds?" Rachel asked.

"Well, I'm currently at Julliard, studying music. I play the odd gig in some bars. My life is really not all that interesting." Blaine laughed. "I've heard you're one to keep an eye on though."

"Oh, Julliard? That's no small feat, you must be good. I'm impressed. Aren't you impressed Kurt?"

"So impressed" Kurt said dreamily, to which Blaine laughed so hard he snorted and half-choked on the sip of coffee he was swallowing. Kurt's cheeks flushed bright red.

"Yes, very impressed." Rachel continued. "And to your other comment; thank you. I'm not really doing much at the moment, but you'll see me on Broadway one day. Don't worry, I'll get you tickets!"

"Well, thank _you. _I'm looking forward to it." Blaine smiled charmingly and Rachel could definitely see where Kurt's new infatuation had come from. This was the most dapper individual she had ever come across in her entire life.

"All the good ones are gay." She muttered, not realizing she'd said it aloud.

"Sorry?" Blaine laughed a light apology.

This time it was Rachel's face that reddened.

"You are not allowed to crush on Blaine, Rachel!" Kurt yelled from the bathroom whilst prepping himself for the concert. "Not allowed."

"Why? You've never stopped yourself from crushing on my boyfriends, or almost-boyfriends! Besides, I don't have a crush on him."

"You promised you'd never bring that up. Far too awkward now, Rachel. He's my step-brother." Kurt shuddered. The period with Finn was not one he looked back on fondly. "And, you better not."

"Don't threaten me, Hummel."

"Oh yeah?" He retorted, mock-threateningly. "What are you gonna do?"

"I'll ruin your hair. Worse, I'll burn your wardrobe."

Kurt feigned horror "Rachel, please. Have mercy. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry!"

"Fine, you're spared." She laughed. "Now help me pick an outfit. I need to look hot."

The venue was a large hall that looked almost palatial from the outside. The details were beautiful. Carved stone sculptures, large chandeliers and high cathedral-like ceilings. It was positively grand. The actual function room itself was huge, with a large stage positioned at one end of the room and tables scattered around with place-cards on them, and if he didn't know better, Kurt may have thought this was a wedding reception or rehearsal or something. There were staff passing around drinks and about 200 people greeting each other warmly. Blaine's senior class plus guests, he assumed.

"Wow." Kurt breathed.

"They certainly went all-out." Blaine smiled, coming to stand beside Kurt. We're not on for a while, so we should just go and mingle. Sebastian came and looped his arm around Blaine's waist, and before he could say anything Kurt was left behind as they went to greet old friends.


	9. When The Skies Get Rough

Chapter 8:

"Blaine Anderson!" A voice called from across the room.

"Nick!" Blaine smiled "You weren't at the party. I thought you'd died."

"Logical conclusion." The boy hugged Blaine carefully. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

"I got hit by a car." Blaine said, widening his eyes and grinning as if it was some achievement.

"Only you, Blaine." Nick turned his attention to Kurt "I swear he is the clumsiest person I have ever met. Sorry, I'm Nick"

"Kurt."

"Has Blaine told you about his trip to the emergency room, Senior Year?" Nick grinned mischievously.

"No, no he hasn't." Kurt smiled, turning to look at Blaine who almost looked embarrassed.

"Young Master Anderson here was too short to reach the top of the mirror where he insisted upon keeping his razor. He was jumping to get the razor and grabbed on to the front of the mirror for support. It couldn't hold his weight and so he and the mirror fell. The glass went everywhere into a million pieces and while he was getting up, Blaine got 17 cuts, including one long one from his thumb to the middle of his forearm when he slipped. He had to undergo a psych eval just to prove it wasn't a suicide attempt." Nick was laughing, Blaine laughed too, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It's true. I'm a walking hazard to myself. Are you ready to wow the crowd tonight, Nick?"

"Subtle subject change, Anderson. And yes I am. Are you sure you can't sing one song? Just sit or hobble with that ugly black boot of yours. It'll be about as graceful as you usually are anyway."

"Now, Nicholas. Are you suggesting I go against the doctor's orders?"

"Never. It's been too long Blainey. We have to get together soon!"

"Definitely."

Nick nodded to Kurt. "Nice to meet you." He ruffled Blaine's hair before moving on.

"Well I feel a little better about hitting you now. Perhaps you're just very accident-prone." Kurt joked.

"Oh, I've no doubts it was entirely my fault."

"What was your fault?" Sebastian said, snaking his arms around Blaine's middle from behind.

"Nothing" Blaine replied softly, craning his head to bring his and Sebastian's lips together in a sweet kiss.

Feeling that this was his cue to leave, Kurt went in search of Rachel and a conversation a little less….intimate. Something about Blaine's reaction seemed a little off. He was a little too shy, a little too uncomfortable, like a real nerve had been struck. Shaking his head in an attempt to shake the thought, he once again focused on the aim of the night: to have a good time.

Kurt didn't even notice the hour fly by before Blaine was on stage welcoming the alumni and their dates to yet another Dalton reunion. He joked and laughed on stage, introducing the Warblers and being utterly charming in his Dalton blazer. And yes, every expectation that Kurt had about how he was going to look in his high school attire was met and sometimes exceeded (especially when one took into consideration how good Blaine's ass looked in those pants).

They started with Uptown Girl, Nick taking the lead, and launched into a never-ending line of Top 40 songs from 5 years ago. About 8 songs later, Blaine re-appeared on stage. Nick grabbed the microphone and announced to the crowd that Blaine had agreed to do one song, to which the crowd cheered loudly, as long as no one laughed at him for his "lack of swagger". Blaine looked as his feet bashfully and smiled.

…_You think I'm pretty without any make-up on…._

Katy Perry, of course. But hold the phone, was Blaine singing _to _Kurt? The hazel eyes bore into glasz and Kurt felt his stomach do backflips. A flirtatious smile played on Blaine's lips as he sung. And boy, was he good. His voice was rich and clear and if there was any doubt in Kurt's mind about Blaine being the Warbler's soloist, it was far gone now. Even the group seemed to fall into a better sync to the sound of Blaine's singing, the two-step even more in time (if that was even possible). Occasionally Blaine's eyes flickered to Sebastian who was smiling and rocking along to the music, and didn't seem to notice where Blaine's attention was focused.

'_Blaine, what the fuck are you doing?' _He thought to himself as each word poured from his lips. He was flirting with Kurt, no two ways about it, and he was doing it in front of his boyfriend. _'Real classy.' _He chastised himself again. He was almost glad when the song ended, obviously the show-choir-boy had come out in him momentarily and caused him to act irrationally. The real, sensible Blaine Anderson would never behave like that. He thanked the audience and went back side-stage, watching the Warblers do their final number, but still he could not stop his eyes from shooting in Kurt's direction.

"You were amazing." Sebastian said simply, pulling Blaine into a kiss.

"Amazing!" Rachel reiterated, pushing Sebastian aside to give him a hug. "If I had known that you were hiding here this whole time I would have sought you out years ago. Oh, to think of all the duets we could have sung!"

"I'm devastated we didn't find each other earlier too, Rachel. But we can still make up for lost time." Blaine laughed.

"You were completely incredible, Blaine." Kurt said a little hesitantly, standing a fair distance away.

"Thanks, Kurt." Blaine smiled politely. _'Crap. I fucked everything up, didn't I?'_

Kurt excused himself and made his way speedily to the nearest men's room.

'_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Breathe, breathe Kurt. Did I imagine that? I did, right? I imagined that whole thing. That didn't happen. Does that could as a serenade, was I serenaded? Oh my God, stop it. No. I don't even know how to process this. If I did imagine that, I need to see someone because that is just…. Not ok. If I didn't imagine that… holy fuck.' _ His thoughts raced by faster than he was able to think them. They blended into a flurry of curse words and daydreams that he wisped away before they were really allowed to form. Allowing himself to even think that there was a chance was too much for his heart to bear.

Kurt returned after splashing some water on his face and doing some deep breaths to calm down. He didn't get far before Nick grabbed his arm and pulled him into some corner.

"What the fuck is going on between you and Anderson?"

"Nothing."

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I saw everything." Nick said, his voice tense.

"Really, nothing. Nothing at all is going on."

Nick sighed and released Kurt's arm, which was definitely going to bruise.

"Are you…disappointed?" Kurt asked, confused.

"No. Just… be careful, ok? Blaine's great, really the best guy I've ever met. His life is just very tangled, and not something you really want to find yourself mixed up in. Not unless you know exactly where you stand."

"What does that even mean?" Kurt asked, very confused now.

"Nothing." Nick said, though he was suddenly very distracted and almost paranoid. "Just know where you stand."

Kurt went to ask again, but Nick was already walking away at an unusually fast pace. Kurt's emotions were something crossed between confusion and fear, because the way that Nick had said that… was Kurt in danger?


	10. Time

Chapter 9:

"Kurt? Are you okay? You've been really quiet since we got home." Rachel said, her tone laden with concern.

"Yeah. Just something Nick said." Kurt breathed. Since that evening he hadn't been able to think of anything else. Not his upcoming callback, not his homework for NYADA, his brain refused to focus on anything but the encrypted messages that Nick had sent.

"Oh?"

"He told me that Blaine was great, but that I needed to be careful. That stuff with Blaine is messy and that I needed to know where I stood. He kinda emphasized that last bit."

"That's odd. Did he say what 'messy' meant?"

"No." Kurt whispered after a moment.

"Well, I wouldn't concern yourself. I'm sure that being friends with Blaine is fine. I doubt that it's as 'messy' as you think" Rachel said, trying her best to be comforting. "Besides, maybe he was just having you on. That's the right phrase, right?"

"Yes, Rachel, that is an appropriate phase. I don't think he was though. He seemed terrified."

Rachel gulped quietly. "Nonsense. I have excellent intuition and I didn't see anything overly fishy at all."

"Well, that's a relief." Kurt said sarcastically, and a little more harshly than necessary. "Let's just forget about it for now."

"You what?" Blaine yelled, his voice echoing through his apartment.

"I don't understand why you're so angry. It seems unreasonable that we can't sit down with your family and have a nice dinner. It's not the end of the world, Blaine."

"I can't even begin to comprehend when you thought this might be a good idea. Did you not hear all the times I told you about my dad? 'We don't speak anymore', 'my father said he never wanted to see me again', 'my mother has to pretend she doesn't talk to me'. Did you miss these?"

"I think this is ridiculously immature of you, Blaine. I'm your _boyfriend _and I want to meet your parents. It's not too hard for you to be civil, is it?" Sebastian's voice grew tenser and tenser.

"The last time my father and I saw each other I ended up in a hospital. That was not a coincidence." Blaine's anger suddenly morphed into desperation and sadness. "Please, Bas, please. I told you from the beginning that this was how things are with my family. Maybe you can meet my mother at some point?"

"Blaine, fighting with your parents is something most people left behind once they became an adult, and there's a reason for that. I don't want to be hidden from your family, swept under the rug any time you interact with them."

"Can't you please just try to understand?"

"I've already invited them Blaine, and if they accept, that's it. It's done."

"What? You don't get to treat me like a child who has no say in any decision. This is my life. I won't back down from this, like I do with every other time you do something stupid or inconsiderate. I said no, and I can't believe you didn't even bring it up with me first."

"Stop being such a brat, Blaine. Have your temper tantrum elsewhere. Stop acting like such a victim. Can't you hear yourself? Oh poor Blaine, his boyfriend wants to meet his family. He actually cares about you. Of course, it doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean he's trying to make sure he's going to be a part of your life in the future or anything. Well, fuck you too, Blaine. Go home."

"Bas, I-"

"Go home, Blaine."

Blaine silently picked up his jacket and left Sebastian's apartment, feeling as shitty as he always did whenever they fought. Somehow, his boyfriend managed to make him feel like he was the heartless one, even if he had done nothing wrong. Whether it was because he was a pushover or because Sebastian was overly sensitive, Blaine was unsure. He had been having a lot of relationship troubles since the previous weekend in Ohio, when he thought about it. Sebastian would be overreacting to everything. The way Blaine looked at somebody, how often he made an effort to text or call, how many hours he worked. He blamed him for their lack of sex life, which was sort of Blaine's fault, but he had been hit by a car, so it was perhaps a little unfair.

Moping alone in his room didn't really appeal, so he decided to ask Kurt to a coffee.

To: Blaine

From: Kurt

_Now's not a really good time, sorry._

To: Kurt

From: Blaine

_No problems, are you busy all day?_

To: Blaine

From: Kurt

_Yeah, sorry. _

Ok, so that was a little odd, but Blaine decided not to read into it too much. Kurt was probably just stressed with his callback coming up soon and everything. He wasn't being dismissive; he's probably just really busy. Right? Try as he might, Blaine couldn't help but feel as if he had just been rejected. Dejectedly, he returned to his own apartment and put in a movie that he didn't really pay attention to. He simply prayed for sleep.

Kurt a strange feeling of being everywhere at once, and yet at the same time, nowhere at all. The seconds bled into minutes, minutes into hours. Each blink of his eyes was heavy and purposeful, seemingly taking forever as his lids cast the world black for a moment. Unable to sleep, he tossed and turned in his sheets. Uncomfortable. Cold. Hot. Exhausted. Alert. Each dream that overcame him was another scenario, another idea, about Blaine. About what could happen, about what it all meant. And just as it began to resolve himself he was thrust back into consciousness, only more confused than he had been before.

A more logical and reasonable part of his brain came to the conclusion that he was being ridiculous. What could be so bad? He highly doubted Blaine was involved in the Mafia, or some underground drug ring. What could be so complicated? But the logical voice is never heard. His heart longed to be with Blaine, spend time with him, laugh with him. It burnt with desire to wrap his arms around the tanned, toned body and pull him close. To press his lips against Blaine's and let his mind be silenced from the sheer magnitude of the greatness of that kiss. But every step he took in that direction was blocked, his muscles refusing to cooperate. He felt as if he were suffocating, like his lungs could not find the oxygen that surrounded him.

With every last iota of his willpower, he forced his fingers to press down on each letter.

To: Blaine

From: Kurt

_I'm free this evening. Want to come round for dinner with Rachel and I? About 7:30?_

His phone blinked. [Sent.]

And on the other end was a boy squealing with glee.


	11. Dinner

Chapter 10:

"That's the doorbell."

Kurt paused, breathed, readied himself.

"Kurt, the door?" Rachel spoke again.

"Right."

He moved towards the door, more nervous than anything else. It all felt so domestic and simple, but so secretive at the same time. Blaine's cheery smile appeared as Kurt pulled the door open, he rubbed anxiously at the back of his neck, almost shyly before saying hello.

Kurt smiled back, "Hey."

They stood in the doorway for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, both unable to read the relief that they felt in seeing each other again - and to think that Kurt had meant to cut Blaine out of his life. How easily being around Blaine became some sort of necessity, like oxygen to Kurt's deprived lungs. Merely being in his vicinity filled a hole he didn't even realize had formed inside him. Blaine's heart beat faster and harder and he prayed to the God that he didn't believe in that Kurt couldn't hear it, couldn't see how nervous he was.

"Sorry, come in" Kurt said, blushing, as he stepped aside.

"Wow, your apartment is not at all what I expected." Blaine said, looking eagerly at the walls, the paintings, posters, furniture.

"Well, what'd you expect?"

"I don't really know, not this."

Kurt and Rachel's apartment was a fairly boring and bland box situated on the 4th floor of a fairly boring and bland building. It was small with a lounge room and kitchen in the same area, one small bathroom and two small bedrooms. The walls were a dark cream color, lit poorly by yellow lamps and ceiling lights that left some corners still in darkness. The grey bench-tops of the kitchen and the tattered white refrigerator looked like they had been scavenged from garage sales and reject shops. There were few posters; one of Barbra Streisand's _Funny Girl_ anda _Chicago _poster with a signature Blaine didn't recognize as being anyone important, and a few artworks that couldn't be worth more than 20 dollars.

Not that two young Broadway hopefuls living in New York City should be living in glamorous penthouse suite or anything, but Blaine expected the home to bit a little more _Kurt. _A little more personalized and stylish, colorful, vibrant, unusual in the best of ways.

Blaine smiled and moved further into the living space.

"Blaine!" Rachel squealed, pulling the boy into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you could come. Kurt's been moping all week."

"Rachel!" Kurt shook his head in attempt to silence her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did something happen?" Blaine's voice was laden with genuine concern.

"No, nothing _happened_. Rachel's exaggerating." Kurt said, throwing Rachel a pointed look.

"Well, anyway, come in. Sit down, we'll have a drink."

They soon fell into an easy conversation full of snorts and giggles as they regaled each other with stories from the past. Dinner was a simple chicken stir-fry, one of the few meals Rachel was successfully able to make. Kurt was generally the chef of the house, but occasionally Rachel would insist that she cook. They sat on the sofa, laughing and drinking and eating into the wee hours of the night. At about 1:30 in the morning Rachel excused herself and went to bed (she had a class that morning at 9), leaving the two boys to themselves.

Whether it was the alcohol circulating through their systems or simply the enjoyment of Blaine's company, Kurt could not bring himself to feel awkward or nervous, it was as if Nick had never said anything at all. Blaine didn't really seem all that complicated, he was sweet and charming and kind. They sat side-by-side, their thighs pressed together, occasionally bumping one another with their shoulders. Kurt was hyperaware of Blaine's warmth each time it met his body. He noted every time their skin connected, relishing the tingles he felt there, immediately missing it when Blaine pulled away.

"Do you think it's weird that we spend time together? I mean, considering how we met?" Blaine asked, almost serious all of a sudden.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I guess. I suppose not many people who get hit by a car become friends with the person who hit them."

"I just… I don't know. I mean Santana seems to think that you've got this hidden agenda or something. That you need to be watched." Blaine laughed. "Not that she's a reliable source of information. She's a little paranoid. I just think it's weird."

"Yeah, I got the feeling she didn't like me very much."

"Aw, don't be offended. She doesn't like anyone very much. Well, except Brittany."

"And you."

"I don't think so. She pretends. I think she secretly hates me." Blaine laughed.

"I can't imagine anyone hating you." Kurt said, his voice little above a whisper.

"I can."

"Who hates you?"

"My father." Blaine turned his head away, refusing to look Kurt in the eye.

"Oh."

"Geez. I'm sorry. That's totally not appropriate. I don't know why I said that. Just forget that." Blaine fumbled.

'It's ok. I mean, I asked. Did you want to talk about it?"

"No. Not really."

"Well, I mean, I don't know the situation, but I'm sure he loves you. No matter what comes between the two of you. You're his son, and an amazing, loving, beautiful person. You're kind and smart and talented and polite, you're like the ideal son."

"I don't know that I'm any of those things, but thank you, Kurt." A tear threatened to spill from Blaine's eye. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make this all about me and my problems."

"That's ok. From what I hear, you have a lot of those." _Shit. _Kurt immediately wished he could reel that back in. What kind of mental lapse did he have to make him produce that?

A puzzled look came over Blaine's face. "What?"

"Nothing." Kurt dismissed him.

"Who said I have a lot of problems?"

"Nick." _Why can't I just shut up? _

"Warbler Nick? What?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything at all. I've been drinking: it's obviously not good for me. My brain isn't working properly."

"No, no, no. Wait. What'd he say?"

"Nothing. Something about your life being tangled and knowing where I stand. I don't even really remember. It wasn't even a big deal." Kurt lied.

"How odd. Well, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Know where you stand?"

"I don't… I mean, I think I…"

"I'll take that as a no." Blaine laughed, leaning closer to Kurt. So much so that Kurt could feel Blaine's breath against his neck.

_Really close. _Kurt thought.

"Do you want to?" Blaine said flirtatiously.

Kurt nodded. Not trusting himself to speak. Both men had drunk enough to make their heads fuzzy, to cloud judgment. This was the kind of situation when stupid things happened, things that would become regrets later, and for some reason, Kurt couldn't bring himself to care. He could feel Blaine's body heat radiating off him, see his muscles underneath the fabric of his shirt.

Silently, Blaine closed the gap in between them. Pressing his lips against Kurt's sweetly, innocently. He brought his hand behind Kurt's head as he deepened the kiss. Kurt moaned softly into Blaine's mouth. He cupped Blaine's cheek in his hand, barely able to pull him closer before Blaine shot himself to the other end of the couch. He breathed heavily, his eyes darting from spot to spot, never anywhere near Kurt's face. He brought his fingertips to his lips, shocked.

Blaine felt his stomach drop, the blood drain from his extremities. He had just kissed Kurt… and it was amazing. He urged to grab the collar of Kurt's shirt and pull him in again. His lips tingled, the taste of Kurt's mouth lingered on his tongue. His mind raced, his heart pounded, he was barely unable to think a logical thought.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I thought that was a good idea. You probably…." Blaine covered his face with his hands.

"It's… It's ok." Kurt said breathlessly. "You could do it again… If you wanted."

Blaine looked at him through his eyelashes. "I do, but I won't. It's not fair. And Nick is right. My life _is _tangled. I'm sorry, I think I should go. But I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Um, yeah. Ok." Kurt said, forcing a smile.

Blaine grabbed his things and headed to the door. He hesitated slightly and turned back to Kurt, smiling warmly at him.

Kurt felt even more confused, but at the same time elated to a new level of happiness he didn't know existed. Kissing Blaine Anderson was potentially the best thing ever, and he was determined to do it again.


	12. The Air I Would Kill To Breathe

Chapter 11:

"Unbelievable." Santana said, waving her arms a little dramatically. "Like getting a decent coffee in New York should be this hard."

"What's wrong with the one you've got?" Blaine said, laughing a little.

"It's really watery. No, this is too disgusting. Swap with me."

"What? Why would I swap with you when you just told me how disgusting yours is?"

"Blaine, be a gentleman and swap with me." Santana ordered.

"No. Shan't. Besides yours is some crappy decaf, skim milk nonsense. I'll buy you another one from somewhere else."

Santana smiled. "About time you got some manners."

They turned into the next coffee shop they passed that had a line long enough to mean the coffee was decent, but not so long that Santana might throw a tantrum about how long it was taking.

"Blaine!" Rachel called, standing up from her table and waving.

"Who the hell is that? Oh God, she's a hobbit." Santana said, scrunching her nose.

"Hey Rachel" Blaine called to her before turning to Santana. "Try to be sort of nice. Just for the 5 minutes that she'll be here. I know it's hard for you."

Santana huffed.

"Hi there, I'm Rachel." Rachel held her hand to Santana who looked at incredulously before smiling a little patronizingly and shaking her hand.

"Blaine," Rachel continued, "I had a little chat with Kurt and I'm not really impressed. I mean I know that Kurt is a great guy and everything, really wonderful and he deserves a wonderful boyfriend. I'm sure you are, a wonderful boyfriend that is, but you already have a boyfriend. I don't appreciate you stringing Kurt along just because you can. Besides kissing Kurt, intoxicated or otherwise, is _cheating _on your boyfriend. Which really says a lot about your character. And I just-"

"Ok, I was going to wait for her to finish, but I began to doubt that I would outlive her speech so I'm going to have to interrupt." Santana turned to face Blaine. "You fucking what? Blaine!"

"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. He gets it. I stopped, it was really short anyway." Blaine tried to reason.

"SPUR OF THE MOMENT? Blaine Anderson, what the fuck is wrong with you? What if Sebastian finds out about this? What if he tells Tate?" Santana's eyes started to well with tears.

"Calm down, San. No-one's going to tell Tate. It's fine. No-one's going to find out."

"You're such an idiot!" Santana said, crying. She beat her clenched fists against his chest. She shoved him backwards into a bystander before pulling his close and hugging him.

Rachel stood bewildered watching the two bicker. She had the intention of making Blaine feel guilty and hopefully realize that Kurt was a better choice. Santana was behaving as if this meant that Blaine might be abducted or killed. And who was Tate?

"Sorry, but, who's Tate? I feel like we've gone off topic Can we get back to Kurt?" Rachel piped up.

Santana stopped sobbing and turned to Rachel, her eyes narrowed. "Fuck you, hobbit. Why are you still here? Acting like your pathetic friend is even important anymore. Boo hoo. He'll dry his eyes, hopefully grow a pair and move on."

"Santana. Stop." Blaine warned. "Sorry, Rachel. Tell Kurt I'm sorry as well, that I would if I could. We should go."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"Bye, Rachel." Blaine said softly as he walked out of the café with Santana who kept repeating "you idiot" under her breath.

As far as Rachel Berry was concerned that was definitely in her top 5 strangest interactions.

"Britt?" Santana said as they lay on the sofa in front of the TV.

"Mm?"

"You're not going to give me back right?"

"No. Why would I do that?"

"I just wanted to make sure. If you start getting bored of me, just tell me and I'll get better."

"I don't think you can get any better. Besides, yesterday Lord Tubbington told me that you scratch that spot behind his ears best. So I don't think I'm allowed to."

"Okay." Santana said, breathing a sigh of relief.

How long was an acceptable amount of time to continue to swoon over one kiss that was potentially a mistake? Especially when the person you kissed said they would call and didn't? Kurt Hummel didn't really have an answer to that question, but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face whenever he thought about it. Blaine had only sent him one text the next day that read:

To: Kurt

From: Blaine

_I'm sorry again for last night. Hope you're well. x_

Which could have been a little more affectionate, but Kurt figured that Blaine was merely sorting through things. The fact that Blaine had a boyfriend was not lost on Kurt, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping that Blaine would dump Sebastian and run away with Kurt instead. Kurt had kissed other people before, other boys before, but it had never felt like that. Like butterflies in your stomach for hours afterwards and tingles on your lips that almost hurt and every thought flying out of your mind because of how amazing it is that your lips can meet someone else's and feel like _that. _Blaine's lips were warm and soft; he tasted of beer, and a little of chicken, but mostly of a sweet flavor that was distinctly _Blaine. _

He sent Blaine a text that he'd spent the last few hours perfecting.

To: Blaine

From: Kurt

_I'm great, and really it was fine. I was actually wondering: did you want to get lunch with me sometime? x_

He twiddled his thumbs and anxiously awaited the "Yeah, sure. I'd love to. When?" that Blaine was meant to respond with. He was interrupted as he weighed the options for which place to have lunch when his phone vibrated violently to indicate he had a new message. And again. Two messages!

To: Kurt

From: Rachel

_Just ran into Blaine, I think something's up. Be home around 5. Be there._

To: Kurt

From: Blaine

_Glad to hear it. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not sure it's such a great idea. Just a lot of stuff to deal with. Talk soon. _

Well, neither of those sounded particularly comforting. For the first time in the past 2 days, Kurt allowed the smile to slip from his face as he re-read each message.


	13. Frustration

Chapter 12:

There are times when Blaine wants to ball his hands into fists and throw them at everything around him. At the walls until his skin is torn and the amount of craters outweigh the amount of flat surface it's meant to be, at the mirrors until each one is shattered and in pieces on the floor, at each and every meaningless object that litters his apartment until it is far beyond repair. He wants to curl his arms around his legs and scream and sob in the middle of the mess with his hands bleeding and aching until he falls asleep. Now is one of those times. Because how is it fair? How is it fair that Blaine should have to push away someone that makes him smile as much as Kurt does? Why doesn't he get a choice?

Sebastian's caring words are accompanied by worried eyes and Blaine hates him for it. Hates that he can't blame his boyfriend for everything, that he can't simply say: "I found someone else" and move on, because Blaine doesn't get to say that to anyone anymore. Blaine loves Sebastian, the way his arms curl around his shoulders when he's sad, the way he presses his lips to Blaine's forehead whenever he's stressed or sick, the way he introduces him as "my boyfriend" to his friends and family, beaming with pride. Sebastian is much better than the others, much better than most of Tate's '_possibilities' _and you can learn to love someone simply because they treat you like a person. Sebastian treats Blaine like a person, and sometimes, like he's the world.

"I'll cancel if you really want me to, Blaine. I will." Sebastian says, thinking that his boyfriend's tears are still about the dinner he forced him into a few weeks ago.

"It's okay, Bas. You want to meet them, I understand. I don't want to hide you."

Sebastian smiles a crooked smile and presses his lips to Blaine's cheek.

"I love you, you know."

"I love you too" Blaine responds, his voice breaking as tears threaten to spill once again from his tired, golden eyes.

"And I won't ever." Sebastian says looking directly into Blaine's eyes.

Blaine gives a small smile and nods.

"Kurt Hummel?" The strange voice asks, distorted through the phone.

"Yes?"

"Hi, this is Carmen Williams, I'm calling about your audition for the _Elves and the Shoemaker_?"

"Oh?" Kurt responds, surprised. It's unusual to be directly contacted from a producer; generally everything goes through your agent. They're very impersonal in showbiz.

"I wanted to congratulate you. Also, as you can imagine with workshop, we're going to be in a hurry. I need all your measurements and everything as soon as you can get them to me. Now we won't need you all the days, but you can just look on the schedule to know which day you're coming in, we might, however call you in if there are some changes. Now have you got the address and everything?"

"I'm sorry, I'm a little lost. Have I… got the part?"

"Oh! Gosh, I'm sorry. Hasn't your agent contacted you? You were meant to get an email as well. Yes! Everyone agreed, congrats."

"Oh. Wow. Thank you. Thank you so much. No I haven't got anything, but I'm sure I will."

"We'll re-send to be sure. Well, yes. If you could get me your measurements that would be fantastic. We start workshopping on the 9th. I'll see you then! I'm afraid I've to run. 'Bye."

"Bye." Kurt said softly.

He waited for his alarm to blare and wake him from this dream, or for the woman to call back and say that she'd made a terrible mistake. Neither happened. '_A part!'_ He thought to himself, ecstatic.

His first thought was to call Blaine, but the lack of communication since Blaine's confusing and somewhat hurtful text led him to believe that perhaps it would not be welcomed. Instead he called Rachel who responded with the appropriate amount of excitement and happiness that anyone would expect from a friend. As per usual Rachel-style she demanded that Kurt throw a party and invite everyone to his opening night. Though, as Rachel went off on her tangent about the social gatherings she could squeeze out of this news, all Kurt could think about was a short boy with golden eyes and an infectious smile that he yearned to see every day.

His next call was to his parents, Burt's voice cracked with pride and he told Kurt to get them tickets, "because they would definitely be there".

"We're so proud of you, Kurt, honey" Carole chimed in on the second house phone.

"You've earned it, kiddo."

Burt and Carole Hummel-Hudson were potentially the greatest parents anyone could ever ask for, and even though Carole was technically his step-mom, it was impossible not to love her as if she were the real thing. Excusing a short period where Kurt was fantasizing about her son, Finn, and a bad experience with a room re-decoration and moist towelette, they were the perfect addition to the family.

Kurt thanked them, told them he loved them and hung up the phone. And for the first time in his life, he found himself missing Lima, Ohio. New York moved at such a pace, there was never any time to stop and think about anything before moving on to another task. There was absolutely no way that Kurt would even consider moving back, even if for a brief period of time, but still he longed for a space where he could clear his head and think things through. But, he had three assignments for school, a workshop coming up soon and bills and dinner to think about, and that was excluding the only real things (or rather person) that played on his mind.

Every 3 months there was a phone call. Santana called 'damage control', Tate Bailey called it a 'check in'. Basically it was to make sure that rules were being abided by, that no plots or plans were being hatched, that no-one was being mistreated, or was being abusive. Of course, Tate never made these phone calls himself, rather one of his minions did. And it was always the same questions, formal and cold.

"How are things?" – which did not mean 'how are you'

"Are there any complaints we should know about?"

"Are you at all looking into applying for termination? Why?"

"Any personal comments that I should pass to Tate?"

Then a short goodbye with a reminder to call if any conditions were being violated, and then you could forget about the conditions of your life for another 3 months.

Santana hated these phone calls for more than the fact that they were an inconvenience, but mainly because they reminded her that she wasn't loved. She couldn't call it love when she was applied for, rented, like some cheap car that you use on holidays and return without a glance back. No matter how often she would hear those three words, no matter how much she wished for them to be true, she couldn't believe that they were. And the smile on Brittany's face was innocent and beautiful as she asked: "who was it honey?", as if she'd forgotten.

Santana wishes she had.


	14. Sign On The Dotted Line

Chapter 13:

_Santana squeezed her eyes shut, her eyes stung but she refused to let any tears fall, to show any weakness._

_Her father spoke after a long silence. "Your grandmother is right, Santana. It's wrong, it's disgusting. I don't think it's too late though to-" _

"_To what?" Santana interrupted_

"_To fix it" Her mother intervened, trying to be sympathetic. _

"_There's nothing to fix." She whispered, her eyes flickering between her parents. "I'm trying to tell you, this is who I am. I haven't changed, I'm still _me."

"_Please don't. Santana, don't do this to us."_

"_Do what? You're acting like I decided this just to spite you. I didn't, it has nothing to do with you."_

"_But it has everything to do with us" Santana's father was furious now. "How can I see my colleagues now? How can we see the family, our friends? With you being how you are? I can't Santana. If you're not willing to try, then neither am I. I need you out of my house by the end of the week."_

_He turned and stalked out of the room without a second glance, her mother soon followed. _

_Finally alone she allowed herself to fold into a ball and rock herself, her arms wrapped around her body the way her mother used to cradle her when she was young. Any comfort that it used to give her was lost now, she felt nothing other than completely, despairingly alone._

_Having little more than $20 in her savings, and a father who refused to fund her anymore, Santana found herself in a pile of garbage bags that had been filled will all her necessary items, tossed unceremoniously out onto the street. The crisp wind bit her that much harder without four walls to find refuge in._

_Tate Bailey was a boy who lived nearby to Santana, though his family was well off enough for him to live elsewhere, he chose to remain in Lima Heights Adjacent. His father had inherited a small business fairly early in life that thrived, so he and Tate's mother and sister had moved to Westerville. Tate lived alone. He was the kind of person who could be seen lurking around in alleys, his hood pulled over his eyes with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His brown hair had a constant amount of grease that made it look only slightly unclean, but coupled with the purple bags underneath his eyes and his thin frame, he looked worn. He kept mostly to himself with the odd interaction with shady personalities and schoolchildren from various areas, and socio-economic backgrounds. _

_In recent years Tate had acquired a friend, quite unusual if you knew Tate, who stuck close to him for most days and afternoons. He was quiet and aloof, well-kept obviously, though his unruly dark hair and the bruises splattered sporadically around his body made him seem untrustworthy. _

_As Santana sat in the cold, on a particularly grey day, they walked past her on the opposite side of the street. Tate's minion looked to her, his hazel eyes met hers for an instant before he ducked back underneath his hood. From her patch of pavement, she noticed him whisper into Tate's ear. Tate nodded once and slowly turned his course to meet her. They stood before her, their shadows looming across the buildings and her face, she squinted up at them before scowling and shuffling in her spot to face away from them. _

"_In a pickle are we, Satan?" Tate chuckled._

"_Fuck off, Bailey. Why don't you and Frodo go back to the Shire?"_

_Tate laughed. "I like this one." He spoke to the shorter, dark-haired boy who gave a slight smile and nodded._

"_I can help you, if you'd like." Tate continued to Santana._

_She urged to spit in his face, tell him that she didn't need his help and add in some snarky comment just for kicks, but she didn't. Though she hated asking for help, she wasn't an idiot; she knew she needed it._

"_What? Just like that?"_

"_We'll work out terms later. I say you can come to our apartment for the night and we'll sort everything out in the morning. If you decide to come back here tomorrow, no hard feelings. Sound reasonable?"_

_Tate's smug face made her want to vomit. "Yeah. I guess. You two aren't gonna have sex or anything are you?"_

"_No!" Tate laughed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "Blaine's not really my type."_

"_Okay, then."_

"_Okay."_

"_Blaine, get her… bags."_

'_Blaine' as Santana had learned his name was hoisted up the filled garbage bags one by one and flung them over his shoulder. Before moving back to Tate's side he leaned into her ear as subtly as he could and whispered: "Say no."_

_If she knew Blaine at all she might have taken that seriously, but as it was she simply scoffed and moved to follow Tate who was now walking in the direction that he and Blaine had seemed to be headed earlier._

_The 'apartment', if you could call it that, was more like a warehouse space. It was large and dusty, the walls were hardly painted, most had chipped paint with a lot of exposed concrete. The main area had simply a large couch and a table pushed off to the side and a kitchen area around the back wall. There was one bedroom to the left and a bathroom door beside it. To the right was another bedroom and a sealed door with a separate padlock. It was cold inside, and there was a slight dust smell, but there were heaters situated around, and Santana was sure she would get used to the musk eventually. She wasn't really in a position to complain, no matter how much she wanted to._

"_You will be rooming with Blaine this evening." Tate said, and noting Santana's mildly disgusted expression, added "There are two beds, don't worry."_

"_If you're hungry, I'm sure there's some food in the fridge that Blaine can get you, feel free to help yourself to anything that's here. Blaine will show you were the plates and cups and et cetera are. My room is to the right. You are not to enter either of the rooms on this side. Clear? If there is some desperate reason to wake me, tell Blaine. He knows what to do. Goodnight, Santana. I will see you in the morning, I hope."_

_Tate and Blaine nodded at one another before Tate moved into the bedroom and shut the door rather forcefully. Santana could hear locks clicking from the other room. _

"_Okay." Blaine said moving over to the kitchen, noticeably more at ease even with Tate just a door away. "Cups are in the cupboard to the right of the fridge. Plates are beneath that. There is a microwave and toaster in the pull-out drawer on the left. Uh, yeah. Dishwasher, please rinse everything before putting it in. There's a washing machine just off from the bathroom if you need it. Anything else?"_

"_What do I do with my stuff?" Santana said, trying her best to sound collected and in control._

"_Just dump them in the corner, or by the door maybe. Anything you need to bring into the bedroom, you can. There's just not a whole heap of space. "_

_The bedroom was small with two beds that were really only mattresses on spring frames. Each had a pillow and a cover, but that was it. _

"_Charming." Santana said, sitting down on the bed that was obviously less lived-in._

"_It's better than being on the street." _

"_That's true. So, Blaine, are you going to tell me your life story?"_

"_No, probably not. Not now anyway."_

"_D'ya wanna hear mine?"_

"_Probably just as much as you want to tell it." Blaine said, rather bluntly._

"_You're a boring one, aren't you? Gah, I wonder if it's too late to change roommates."_

_Blaine laughed a little. "I'm hoping it's only for one night."_

"_Now that was just plain rude."_

"_No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Santana, you don't really want to stay. I don't know what the terms will be for you, but they aren't nice. They aren't reasonable, and they might sound good for now, but in a while, you'll hate that you ever said yes."_

"_Morbid. So what're your terms?"_

"_I can't say. I probably shouldn't have said as much as I just did. I won't be there when he presents his offer, but please say no."_

"_Look, no offense or anything shrimp, but I'm a big girl. I can pick for myself. Just cause you fucked yourself up doesn't mean that we're all that stupid. I don't even know you, shut up."_

"_Okay." _

_In the morning the sun shone through the two windows in the room, illuminating every dust particle that floated around the room. Blaine was already up, Santana could hear him softly clinking pans and cutlery from the kitchen. She emerged just as he placed two plates of bacon, eggs, toast, sausage and hash browns on the table. He smiled at her politely. Tate was already seated, he thanked Blaine and then told him he was dismissed until 11:30._

"_Sit." He smiled._

"_Is this mine?" Santana said, her mouth watering at the sight._

"_Sure is. Dig in."_

_She did._

"_Santana, I hope you understand, I'm busy. I'd rather get through this as soon as possible, so if you don't mind I will read the terms now?"_

"_Go for it."_

"_Thank you. Ok:_

_Upon signing this agreement I hereby consent to the following conditions:_

_I will reside under the guidance of Tate Bailey whilst this contract holds, meaning:_

_I will require his consent for any; medical procedures, body modifications, travel, purchases spent with the collective fund, major decisions._

_I will reside in one of Mr. Bailey's residences, unless written permission is given to state otherwise. _

_For each month that I am under the care of Mr. Bailey, a year will be added to my contract time, excluding the year that will be instated upon signature._

_Take part in Mr. Bailey's personal business matters when required, without complaint._

_You have the rights at any time to:_

_Lodge a formal complaint to Mr. Bailey or one of his associates which will be reviewed fairly amongst a board_

_Terminate or extend the contract once the set period is complete_

_Use any of your own finances and belongings as you please unless this breaks one of the rules stated above._

_Apply to move between residences or change the clauses under which your involvement in Mr. Bailey's businesses is based. _

_I understand that breaking one or more of these rules will result in one of a wide array of punishments, as Mr. Bailey sees fit. _

_That's it, and then you sign it and date it, and I sign it and date it. Each month you need my care still you will need to sign another contract, a different one though. Of course you'll be able to get a job and/or go to school if you wish. Unless that clashes with a business plan. Anything you want to know?"_

"_Yeah…What's the business?"_

"_A hire service."_

"_Oh, 'kay. So I sign here?"_

_Tate nodded and handed her a pen. _

_The sound of the pen dragged across the paper echoed in her ears, along with the faint whisper of a familiar voice, "say no."_

"_Thank you, Santana. It'll be a pleasure, I'm sure." _


End file.
